Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
News & Updates
11.06.2022 The site has been transformed into an archive. Thank you for all the memories here!
Here on Classic we understand that sometimes life can get difficult and we struggle. We may need to receive advice, vent, know that we are not alone in our difficult times, or even just have someone listen to what's going on in our lives. In light of these times, we have created the support threads below that are open to all of our members at any time.
Kier had been haunting Peachstar for a long time. The DayClan leader would wake up and Kier was standing over him in the dark, their faces pressed together; and in the next blink, he was gone. The gay ginger tom with blue eyes would look over his shoulder and there Kier was, for only a split second.
Their meeting was inevitable.
It held the very world in... It held the balance of the very world... It held the very world in the balance?
The NightClan leader stood exactly at the border in deathly silence, staring across it with eerie calmness. Night. Day. There's—my god, there was something in that somewhere. There's something touching my ear. It was my hair.
He would wait for however long it took Peachstar to sense him. He could surely feel him right that second. He was surely on his way right then and there. Their very souls were linked.
Peachstar actually wasn't on his way right at that second because he was taking a nap. He woke up and was relieved (and mildly disappointed) to see his stalker wasn't standing over him like always, but then he realised that somehow he could just tell that the guy was at the Day/Night border and he was like, what the hell, could I always do that? The answer was no, his bond with Kier was just that cool.
He dipped his head as he approached Kier. "Hullo," he said, as if he'd come straight out of an Enid Blyton novel. "I'm guessing you're here about the Hamster Party?"
Peachstar was described as blond, but he wasn’t. We all know he wasn’t. He was ginger. He was just an orange cat. Wake up. He wasn't special. He was just a—he was just a goddamn ginger cat.
"I'm always here for the Hamster Party," Kier replied cryptically, his voice deathly serious and quiet. The thing about Kier was it was a bit like taking someone out of a Georgian Gothic novel and putting them in the modern world — suddenly everything that seemed normal in that old context seemed really weird and jarring, like his entire way of speaking and whole demeanour. He didn't blink. He didn't smile. He just stared at Peachstar like he knew something he didn't. "Are you?" he asked just as quietly. Just as seriously and ominously.
"Well..." Peachstar held Kier's gaze cautiously, like one might hold a Tazmanian devil, or a really peeved off wombat. "...Not all the time. I let other animals hold parties in rotation. Last week it was the Komodo Dragon Party. We're still in recovery mode from that one."
"Not for long," Kier replied in that same quiet, cryptic tone. He still hadn't blinked, eyes never leaving Peachstar's. It was uncertain which part of the DayClan leader's answer he was responding to. "Did you think we wouldn't find out? Did you think NightClan could be kept in the dark forever?"
That's the whole point! A voice squealed in the distance, a mere echo on the wind.
Peachstar frowned. "I did invite you to the hamster party, right?" he said. "I didn't forget? I was so careful with the invitations, so careful with applying the lipstick, so careful with delicately smooching each of the letters right in the same spot every time..."
"Oh, no," Kier replied, "I got your invite..." By now, it was clear that he was seethingly hurt, but he wasn't going to say what by. He narrowed his eyes. "It was a very nice shade, too. What's it called? Hussy traitor red?"
Peachstar narrowed his eyes, narrower than Kier's. "I'm sensing a lot of hostility here," he said, "like I'm just sort of getting a bad vibe, and I really--like it's a lot of bad mojo, and I don't really--I think the she-cat I borrowed it off just called it scarlet, really."
"Uh-huh," Kier replied disbelievingly, voice even more dangerously quiet than before. "Scarlet. Funny, that you clearly think me stupid enough to believe that's a real colour. What's next, Peachstar? The sky is blue?" With his messed up pupil, it was possible he really did he see the sky as something other than blue. He jabbed a paw across the border, catching Peachstar in the chest. "You've sunk to a new low, my dear, even for you."
Peachstar glanced down at Kier's paw. "But the sky is--never mind," he said, so quietly that he was barely speaking. "I assure you Kier, I have been stuck at this 'low' for the better part of a moon, now. Something's...off in my den. But that's neither here nor there. Look, Kier, would you like to begin the hamster party or not? You know, the party with the Hamster Dance?"
I have been stuck at this 'low' for the better part of a moon, now. Something's...off in my den. "Oh?" Kier replied, his usually narrow eyes widening in innocence. As Peachstar moved on, his eyes returned to normal and a thin little grin twitched across his face; his gaze wandered down to the ground beside the other leader and he let out a quiet titter. Look, Kier, would you like to begin the hamster party or not? He looked back up at him and narrowed his eyes — there was a lot of eye stuff going on — in suspicion. Suspicion and determination. "So begin," he replied, icily quiet. It was a challenge.
"It's a long story," Peachstar murmured, "every time I go in there, it's like...Well. I'm sure Rosyclementine and Pastelchaos will figure it out soon enough. In the meantime, we have a party attend."
From behind him, he pulled out a small Twoleg CD player, covered in equal part with scratches and Hannah Montana stickers. He checked that the disc was in place before setting it neatly in between himself and Kier and pressing the play button. The dulcet tones of compressed electric guitar and a default percussion loop from a Casio keyboard filled the air, echoing out across the land.
Kier's eyes narrowed further as the song began, so insipidly cheerful. So this was the party. He wouldn't be the first to break. As the high-pitched hamster voices rang out through the DayClan trees, Kier just stood there in complete, icy silence, staring Peachstar down. It was so silent that the song echoed, everything around them muting until all that was left was the Hamster Dance. "This is some party," Kier muttered quietly, like it were a trap. He didn't take his eyes off Peachstar; he didn't dare. To do so was dangerous. Any sign of weakness would be his destruction; the same went for Peachstar.
"It certainly is," Peachstar agreed, voice barely audible over the sound of the Hamster Party. "It's even got Fuzzy, Hado, and Dixie too..." The song was about halfway over, yet the battle had only just begun. The electric guitars were like a pair of wild boars suffocating inside a dumpster on a hot summer's day. The percussion was like someone dropping a box of tools in an empty warehouse. His breathing was tense and laboured, waiting for the key change in the final chorus. Only then could he rest.
there are a lot less lyrics to this song than i thought there were
Without meaning to, Kier found himself whispering along to the lyrics under his breath, subconsciously bouncing up and down ever so slightly where he sat. The second he realised, he clamped his mouth shut and forced himself still. As the electric guitar solo began, he clenched his teeth, almost physically trembling with the effort it took to not say out loud, "my god, this is a good song." But he resisted. He could deny himself. He'd been doing it for so long. It was a deeply physical experience. As the key change arrived, Kier sucked in a trembling breath. He wouldn't break. His eyes still hadn't left Peachstar's; he wouldn't look away first.
what the hell is happening this is the worst thread i've ever been part of. coincidentally this is the precise length of reply that can be made in the time it takes to listen to hamster party. well maybe there could have been more if i hadn't been so deeply committed to listening to the guitar solo
"Perhaps we are going about this all wrong," Peachstar suggested, just before the key change hit. "It feels so...wasteful to sit here stock-still while the greatest song ever written plays. Is this not a party, Kier? Do people not dance and have fun at parties? Are we perhaps...boring? Don't you just want to go crazy and drink a six-pack of beer and set the territory on fire while Hamster Party plays?"
my hope is that someone reads the entirety of this thread and suggests to the classic staff that we each undergo a psychiatric evaluation as a side note i wrote this reply listening to losing my mind by the pet shop boys & lisa minelli and let me tell you, that is a song that really commands your attention and forces you to stop everything you're doing. what a terrible song to roleplay to
Kier pulled a distasteful face, leaning backwards slightly. “I’m not really a beer sort of fellow,” he replied, like Peachstar should have known better than to suggest something so… beneath him. But then he smiled, slightly devilishly, leaning forward again. His eyes were bright and interested. “But you’re more than welcome to set the territory on fire.” He hoped Peachstar wouldn’t remember they were on DayClan’s land.
